Pretty Sight
by roktavor
Summary: Thanks to that stupid, thirty second long scar cream commercial that plays a thousand times a day, doubt has a new foothold and it digs in and climbs now that Josuke sees himself in a swimsuit. (or: Josuke is insecure about his scars, Okuyasu helps.)


**A/N:** For the Josuyasu week day 1 prompt: scars.

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**Pretty Sight**

The sheer enthusiasm in the knocking at his bedroom door gives away who it is without the cheerful, "It's me!" tacked on, and Josuke's mouth tugs into a smile. Still. He hesitates. Because he trusts Okuyasu with his life, but this…

This is dumb. Josuke is hung up on such a ridiculous thing. The kind of thing that shouldn't even matter, considering he's had before – and currently has – much worse issues to work through.

He's just being silly. Commercials are exaggerated. Beauty is relative. There's no use being superficial. He _knows_.

Josuke has always considered himself a pretty guy; lucky with his physique, attentive to his hair, knows how to dress, moisturizes, all that stuff. But thanks to that stupid, thirty second long scar cream commercial that plays a thousand times a day, _doubt_ has a new foothold and it digs in and climbs now that Josuke sees himself in a swimsuit.

Frowning at the mirror, Josuke twists into a different pose. This one doesn't help any more than the last, and he sighs. Tries letting everything go lax – and oh, shit, that's a mistake, flex just a little there, Josuke, you might not be fully toned anymore but you've still got _something_ to show for –

"Josuke?" Another chipper little knock. "You in there? We gotta get goin' soon!"

Of this Josuke is unfortunately aware, but it doesn't urge his attention away from the mirror. He watches himself run his fingers back and forth over the rough, discolored circle of scar tissue on his abdomen. Its twin on his thigh pulls weird when he twists. Interesting. Kinda gross.

…Why does he have this full-length mirror in his bedroom again? Ah, to check outfits, make sure all of his shoes go well, right, right…

Today he almost wishes he never bothered to glance at his reflection. Then he could've happily gone down to the beach, unaware that to the general public he's not the prettiest sight anymore.

There's only one thing for it.

"Oku, can you come here for a sec?"

The door opens immediately, meaning Okuyasu was probably standing there with his ear pressed to it all nosy-like, waiting for Josuke's answer. And see, _he_ looks fetching in his trunks and tank top, sunglasses perched on his head.

Grey eyes widen when they land on Josuke, and stay glued to him as Okuyasu crosses the room, his steps getting slower and shorter the closer he gets, until he pulls to a stop a little ways away.

Ah. This…was a bad idea. Josuke's insides feel tighter and tighter the longer Okuyasu stares like that.

"I –"

"Wow." Okuyasu sweeps his gaze from Josuke's feet all the way up to his perfectly styled hair (at least _that_ looks the way Josuke wants it to – the way it always has) no less than twice. "Your, um – your earrings match your bathing suit."

Heh. That's all kinds of awkward and endearing, and Josuke's insides relax some, his stomach calming. He manages a small quirk of facial muscles that probably passes for a smile. He hopes. "Did that on purpose, dude."

"O'course ya did," Okuyasu mumbles. His cheeks are starting to go red – just the tiniest bit – and he swaps to staring down at his toes instead of Josuke. "Looks good."

Josuke's mouth pulls into more of a proper smile – he can't help it. Maybe this was a good idea after all. "You look pretty great yourself."

Cheeks flooding with more red, Okuyasu mutters something that had better not be denial, or Josuke will kick his ass. He really _does_ look great, with his loose-fitting, pale pink tank top and patterned swim trunks. They're longer than Josuke's and don't hug him as tight, which…is a style Josuke now wishes he'd considered.

As it is, his tight purple trunks stop well above that misshapen scar on his thigh, showing off the totally-not-horrific way it mirrors itself front and back.

Ugh – scars are supposed to make you feel badass, right? Especially ones like these that no amount of scar cream will ever help.

That's what he and Okuyasu joked about last year, during his recovery, and when it's just Okuyasu looking at his body with admiration, Josuke can convince himself that it really does feel that way – but.

The twisted, too-pale or too-dark knots of tissue, plus the handful of surgical scars where the doctors had to fix up his insides, along with the leftover marks from deep scrapes at Josuke's shoulder…it all _really_ stands out against the smooth, meticulously cared-for state of the rest of his skin.

He's frowning at the mirror again. All told, these scars are worse than the ones in that damn commercial. They aren't roguishly handsome like the one on his lip, or beneath his eye. They look less badass and more…well…

Josuke bites his lip. "You…don't think these scars make me look ugly, do you?"

"Wh – that's what you wanted me in here for?!"

Josuke nods, grateful that he's too busy scrutinizing his scars and doesn't have a view of Okuyasu in this mirror.

Or, he doesn't until Okuyasu is muscling his way between Josuke and the mirror, grabbing at Josuke's shoulders and glaring up at him with some kind of steely purpose in his eyes. "Did someone say something? Do I gotta beat someone up?"

That sends Josuke's heart beating a bit faster, and he assures, "No – no, nothing like that!"

Okuyasu doesn't seem to buy it, his mouth twisted into a dubious frown and his brows furrowed. "Then what?"

"I just – y'know…" Trailing off with a wince is not the most descriptive or helpful that Josuke's ever been, but it's hard to admit out loud. Lots of complicated and shallow feelings at work. It's embarrassing. Maybe Okuyasu will understand anyway.

Judging by the increased furrow in Okuyasu's brows as his fingers squeeze tight to Josuke's shoulders, there's no such luck. Josuke will have to elaborate.

"It's just…I haven't worn a bathing suit around everyone since before the," he makes an exploding motion with his hands between them, and then lets them fall limp at his sides again. "And I've got so many scars from that – like, real ugl –"

"Don't say that!" Okuyasu's hands relax their grip on Josuke, and he rubs at the skin beneath his palms (mostly unblemished but not _quite_, because Josuke hauling himself backwards by shrapnel embedded in his wound turned a clean cut into a _mess_ that didn't heal right). "You're the most handsome guy I know, and now ya got some real badass scars, okay?"

That's incredibly sweet, and makes Josuke's heart a little gooey, but. There are rough, jagged scars beneath Okuyasu's palm. "But they look so…" Again, Josuke winces, and this time it seems like Okuyasu understands what he means.

Face softening, Okuyasu takes half a step closer. "They're nothin' to be ashamed of, Josuke."

Josuke sidesteps Okuyasu, trying to get another peek at himself in the mirror, to try and reconcile the doubts in his head with Okuyasu's words. "I know, but I –"

"Nuh-uh." Okuyasu is back in front of him, keeping Josuke from accessing his reflection, filling his vision with that determined gaze instead. "No buts."

"But –"

"Sh!"

That weird, fond smile that seems to come out most often around Okuyasu eases its way back onto Josuke's face. He's powerless to stop it, and the way that it causes an echoing little grin on Okuyasu's face is even better. Quiets Josuke's thoughts for a moment.

"I see your scars all the time," Okuyasu continues. "I even changed your bandages back before they were scars, so if I say they look cool as hell and make you a badass, then that means they look cool as hell and make you a badass – okay?"

It's impossible not to believe Okuyasu, with those imploring eyes of his. But that stupid, silly doubt refuses to be quashed, still squirming in his stomach alongside the warmth that Okuyasu brought.

"Do _my_ scars make _me_ look ugly?"

Taken aback, Josuke scrambles. "No, of course not – why the hell would you even ask that?" He cups Okuyasu's face and presses a kiss to the end of each curved scar, right at the top of Okuyasu's forehead. "They make you handsome as shit, dude."

A nervous laugh tumbles out of that now-crooked little grin on Okuyasu's face. "So do yours!"

"It's different –"

"Nope!"

There's no use pouting when that smile is just gonna work its way onto Josuke's face every few seconds anyway, so why fight it? It pairs well with the warmth spreading through Josuke's chest, anyway. "Okuyasu…"

"Josuke." An obvious attempt at composure is made by Okuyasu, and is surprisingly successful, his tone almost serious. "Do you still want to go to the beach with everyone?"

That's an out. Josuke can say no right now, and there'll be no beach trip. At least not for him, and likely not Okuyasu either in that case. And if the two of them cancel, then Yukako might very well tell everyone else invited – Mikitaka, Yuuya, Yuuya's girls, not-Rohan-but-he'll-show-up-anyway, whoever is following Koichi around lately – to forget it in favor of dragging Koichi on another romantic outing (their fifteenth in as many days), and they'll all have to find some other way to beat the heat…

Problem is, Josuke would actually like to go to the beach with everyone. Just have a nice, normal summer for a change. Which includes swimming and all that shit, which requires this particular bathing suit, which leaves his un-faded scars out in the open.

Which is…fine. It's fine. Some superficial marks on his skin from a battle that everyone knows took place (except Yuuya's girls, but they're in some kind of biker gang, so they've probably seen worse, right?).

"Yeah?" Josuke tries, and isn't at all sure it sounds convincing.

Okuyasu's thumbs rub gentle at Josuke's shoulders. "You sure?"

"…Yeah." That one came out steadier, thank goodness. "But I'm still a little…"

"A little…" Okuyasu copies Josuke's earlier wince by way of a verbal guess.

Josuke nods to confirm.

Those warm hands that have been stuck steadfast on Josuke's shoulders this whole time leave their perch. They slide upwards, only stopping to cup Josuke's jaw. This is just as nice; a change that Josuke very much does not mind.

_Especially_ not when Okuyasu uses those rough palms to guide Josuke down into a kiss.

The soft shape of his mouth aligns with Josuke's lips in a languid way, and when he pulls back, Josuke's eyelids flutter open without him realizing that he'd ever closed them in the first place.

Okuyasu's hands glide over Josuke's shoulders again. Fingertips brushing the rough scar on his right one are followed by a warm, lingering kiss, and Okuyasu massages the spot afterward. His other hand glides down Josuke's chest, heading toward that dent in his stomach.

The feel of Okuyasu rubbing that scar with his thumb, for some reason, is enough to get Josuke feeling kinda hot under the collar – and –

"We'll be late to the beach," he finds himself mumbling. Careful lips start up a gentle suction on the most noticeable of his shoulder scars; it does not help him calm down _at all_.

Okuyasu hums around a mouthful of skin, his palm flattening on Josuke's abdomen overtop the scar there. "S'fine," he insists, lifting his mouth away from Josuke's shoulder. He picks up Josuke's hand, and finds some tiny scars there to kiss. "You're beautiful, and your scars make ya look so cool, alright?"

He knows it's so silly but hearing that still means so much, and paired with Okuyasu's attentive touches, it's got real actual tears clinging at the corners of Josuke's eyes. He nods, shoving away as much lingering self-conscious doubt as he can. Fake it 'til you make it. (At the very least, he'll look cool to Okuyasu, even if he's ugly to everyone else. He can work with that.)

"Do I gotta kiss all of 'em to make you believe me?"

Oh. The thought sure puts a smile on Josuke's face. That might help cement things. But: "Then we'd really be late."

Getting up on tiptoes allows Okuyasu to go for a deeper kiss, this time. Josuke sighs through his nose, relaxing into the contact, dipping down, almost melting into Okuyasu.

"After, then?" Okuyasu asks, lips still close enough to brush Josuke's.

Josuke swallows. "S-sure, if you still –"

He's interrupted by Okuyasu dropping to his knees and pressing a sloppy kiss to the scar on Josuke's abdomen. "I told ya," he says, grinning up at Josuke all cheeky-like, "I'll kiss all of 'em! Don't make me make us late!"

Smile splitting his face wide, Josuke weighs his options.

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**A/N:** Thanks for reading!


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